


If only your eyes were orange

by sabertoothshadow



Category: Homestuck
Genre: I have no regrets, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mental Torture, Name Calling, Not for the faint of heart, Pet Play, Rape, Torture, Victim Blaming, Zombie AU, Zombiestuck, dave gets raped, everyone but 'jake' and dave are dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 09:45:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1505909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabertoothshadow/pseuds/sabertoothshadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The worlds ended and it seemed like Dave and company might be able to restart theres.  <br/>But nothing ever works out the way you want when there are flesh-hungry assholes roaming the streets for a bite.<br/>And some people snap under pressure and death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If only your eyes were orange

**Author's Note:**

> I have no regrets. Read at own risk.  
> I blame taylor  
> Especially for the pet play  
> though the rest of its mostly my torture mood.

“If only your eyes were orange.”  He sighs as he caresses your cheek almost lovingly, but you know it won’t last and even though you prepare for it that doesn’t stop it from throbbing when he slaps you across the face, you don’t bother to look back at him as your face twists to the right, knowing it’ll just make that it worse if he sees your eyes again.

They are the one thing he can’t change. 

But he changed everything else, you never used to wear your hair spiked, or wear triangle shades, or have a hat on your shirt.  You used to wear your hair down, covering one side of your round shades that you got from your best bro John. 

John is in another room, tied and gagged and he’s the only reason you let Jake pull off your shirt, starts to kiss at your neck and form hickies and bites at skin next to the marks from the days before where he did the same thing.  When you wince with pain he slaps your side and you shut up as he pulls his own shirt off, your hands tied behind your back and you are glad for that excuse not to touch him, but you still moan when he tells you to, a much as you hate it.  You moan his name, as much as you wish it were someone else’s on your lips.

He never used to do this, when the world was still right as rain he was nice and brotherly, like a second brother, and you wouldn’t have minded if one day he became just that, your second brother or your brother-in-law.  Sure he and Dirk used to fight a little, but it was usually silly fights that were quickly mended.

But then the world wasn’t right as rain, then the virus as unleashed and you, Jake, John and Dirk barely escaped with your lives as without any tried to bash in your doors, bit into your flesh and unwillingly recruit you into their brainless, undead army.

Even then Jake had been like a brother, protecting you and John from John’s father who had already been infected when you had gotten there, protected you from the infected animals you couldn’t spot, let you sleep passed your watch time, even if it meant staying up all night.  It wasn’t perfect but it was a life, and when you’d finally managed to get a hold of Roxy, Rose and Jade you had all planned to meet up and everything seemed like maybe it might be okay, Jade and Jake were both good at growing plants, Rose was smart and could help find the best hiding spots, John was a computer geek and had already proven himself able to get online and create a good enough power source to run a computer, or a radio, Jane (who Jake had saved when you got to John’s house) was a great cook, Roxy was a hacking genius and managed to hack a mostly stable and mostly everywhere internet, Dirk was an amazing fighter who could kick any zombies ass, and you were a fighter but you were also smart, and were on your way to cracking a cure for the virus for anyone who got bitten, before they turned zombie. 

It seemed like everything was going to work out.

You suppose it was that thought that made you all cocky; that ultimately lead to your downfall.

You hadn’t even made it half way to the meet point when you had all been caught off guard, you’d managed to make it to the safe house you currently were in but not without a price, and it was all your fault. 

You’d been distracted by the body of a boy you used to go to school with, he wasn’t even a friend, you think the only time you interacted was when he handed you a pencil half way through a test after yours had snapped in half.  But still, seeing him grey skinned, missing half his head, with one eye simply the barest amount of goo in its socket and the other dead eye that was still looking around, but almost looked chewed on, hanging to his neck.  You watched his head snapped backwards with a sickening crack and then lull around so that the discontented bone didn’t matter, he was still looking at you with his brain and instinct still intact.  It had made you freeze, fell as though you were going to be sick.

Dirk yelling your name hadn’t been enough to pull you out of it, but him pulling you inside had been.  That didn’t make it any less too late, a zombie getting a deep bite onto his neck where the duct tape and newspaper wasn’t there to protect.

It had been all your fault that Dirk had to beg Jake to pull the trigger before he turned, all your fault when Jake muttered his agreement, John agreeing to help comfort him as the three walked into another room.  All your fault when you heard the gun fire, once and then twice just to make sure.  Al your fault when you waited almost an hour before Jake came out again, eyes wide and frightful.  He had yelled at you that it was all you fault, all your fault when he pulled the trigger a third time and shot Jane, then again, and again.  Until three bullet words were in her chest.  And then he had taken Janes own fork and began to stab her dead body over and over and over again while you screamed at him as blood started to cover his mad face.  But the worst part was she had been alive until at least the fourth stab.

And you are pretty sure Jake meant for it to be like that.

When he was finally down with her you sat shaking in the corner, terrified.

“ITS ALL YOUR FAULT!”  Jake screamed at you.  “IF YOU HAD JUST BEEN BEATEN, IF YOU HAD JUST BEEN SMART, IF YOU HAD JUST FINISHED THAT STUPID CURE OF YOURS!”  He screamed, kicking you with each accusation.  “THEY WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!”  He screamed, gesturing to behind him where the door and Jane’s body sat.  “I SHOULD KILL YOU!”  He pointed the gun at you, eyes wild and angry as he went to pull the trigger until he began to laugh.  “A life for a life.”  He said.  “That’s what they say.  I always thought it meant killing, but I’ve changed my mind.”  He chuckled.  “You’re going to be my new Dirky.”  He decided.  “And if you refuse, I have john tied up with his body, and I can always shot him, and it’d be all your fault.  Just like everything else is.”  He laughed.  Y

 

You don’t remember how long ago that was but it’s how you ended up here, your hands tied behind your back and Jakes dick down your throat now that’s he’s moved on from the kissing and foreplay, his green eyes are shut behind his square glasses, moaning your brother’s name.  When he pulls out you try not to tense up at he turns you around and shoves you so your face is on the ground and you soon bare ass in the air.

“You’ve always liked it rough Dirky, liked me taking you like this like you’re a dog, and you’re definitely my bitch.”  He chuckles and runs a hand over your ass, squeezing it harshly when you don’t say anything.

“Y-yes Jake I’m your bitch.”  You say quickly, trying to match the memory of his brother’s voice.

“Bitches don’t s         peak like that you stupid mutt.”  Jake growled, slapping your ass hard.  You whimper and let out a bark, blushing as you do so.  “Much better.”  He smirks, feeling ‘kind’ enough to push in slowly, though there’s no preparation or lobe other than your spit, the pain familiar but still so terrible.

“Stop.”  You make the mistake of whimpering the word when his half way in and he growls, thrusting himself in quickly.

“What was that?!”  He growled into your ear as you choked on a sob.

“N-nothing!”  You quickly say and he growls again, thrusting out all the way and right back in, fast and angrily, you let out a quiet cry.

“Excuse me bitch?!”  He growls, at the name you don’t make the mistake of forming words again and instead whimper slightly and woof for him, calming him down as he praises you, calling you a good boy, and pets you.  It makes you feel sick.

The pace goes to a somewhat more pleasant one for a while, slowing increasing before he’s back at the brutal pace once more, screwing you harshly.  You know he’ getting close when his thrusts become more random and he reaches down to stroke your dick.

“You can moan now Dirk.”  He tells you, ad you want to tell him you’re not Dirk but instead you do as he says, knowing he pretends your lack of moaning was part of the roleplay not your discomfort.  You moan for him like the bitch he’s using you as before he finally cums, right after he draws you to your climax.  When he’s down he pulls out and leaves you like that.  

“Good job Dave, you’re almost as good as your brother was at being a bitch.”  The mocking laughter is the only time he ever refers to you as Dave, and you don’t care that it’s an insult, thrilled he’s finally calling you by your real name, even if it’s after he’s raped you.  “Now don’t move or I’ll make you fuck her.”  He adds, laughing as he points at the corpse of Jane Crocker, the slowly decomposing form merging with the smell of the dead trying to get it, and you almost wish they would, wish for that one bite that would take all the pain away.  But at the same time you don’t, not wanting John to stay locked in that room to die of starvation or worse.

You don’t dare move as he walks away behind you, into the very room your best bro is.

He laughs and kicks the head of the black haired corpse in the room, watching the black mop of hair move to make way for the face.  You have no idea of his little secret and he wants to keep it that way.  You kneels before the blonde corpse of your brother and looks into the dead eyes of the bitten boy with grey skin, one bullet hole right through his head.  When someone hesitates this s what happens, two dead instead of one.  The boy chuckles as the term ‘kiss of death or really undeath’ comes to mind as he stares into the orange eyes of the man he killed. 

“If only Dave had orange eyes.”  He says to himself as he pulls out the ember coloured orb.  Maybe a transplant was in order.  He laughed to himself and green eyes looked over to the empty sockets of the other corpse, who had an obvious zombie bite on his lip, given by his lover. 

**_It’d certainly been successful last time._ **


End file.
